


Handing You the Reins

by frozenCinders



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: (also consensual), Aftercare, Bloodplay, Consensual Violence, M/M, Mind Control, Multiple Orgasms, Sadomasochism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-08 23:44:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20985245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders
Summary: Feitan finds himself faced with one doll he cannot break.





	Handing You the Reins

**Author's Note:**

> *the violence isn't actually all that "graphic" in my opinion but i'm desensitized as hell to all that so i tagged it just in case. there's definitely one slightly ugly injury that is mentioned several times throughout the whole thing, though. no one puts their dick in it so there's that at least.
> 
> anyway literally could not tell you what holy spirit possessed me to write this but i wasn't even intending for shalnark to be in it at all at first. i'm so glad he snuck in somehow

Sadism, in the simplest terms, means to enjoy causing harm. On the other hand, masochism is to enjoy receiving harm. The two go extremely well together; this is common knowledge.

So then, when Chrollo revealed masochistic tendencies to Feitan, why and how did he suddenly lose all sadistic urges? Once or twice a year, he always ends up finding a beautiful masochist to be his doll for a night, and Feitan always goes exactly as far as the doll will let him. He's carved his name into someone's back, he's littered plenty of bodies with random scars, he's broken some limbs. Chrollo can handle anything just short of death, Feitan knows this, yet every instinct within him screams at him not to harm him.

He's thankful Chrollo elected to be blindfolded, because he'd certainly be asking about Feitan's expression by now otherwise. He can't help but display his confusion, his frustration. His concern. He has to start at some point, or he'll be disappointing his boss, and his dear friend. That one fear, the only one Feitan has ever known, has always been able to override his instincts.

So he finally picks up a knife and gently presses it to Chrollo's inner thigh. He makes long but shallow cuts, ones that barely hurt and will not scar. Chrollo only tenses because he inevitably expects further pain. It would be remiss of Feitan not to grant him that, and the idea of leaving a permanent mark on one so beautiful would normally excite him, but he doesn't think he can do it. He's already left two permanent marks: one a cross on Chrollo's forehead and the other a spider on his back. Maybe if he carves a neat little design, it won't bug him as much.

His hand trembles, though, as he tries to command it to press harder into the skin. Talk about troublesome loyalty...

"I have a request," Chrollo speaks suddenly. "Could you lift the blindfold for a moment?"

Feitan immediately complies. Chrollo's eyes slide right past him to stare at the blood covering his pale skin. He doesn't blink.

"I don't mean to sound vain," he whispers, sounding entranced. "It's beautiful."

Feitan's heart trembles, freezing him up. Of course, he agrees. The sight of Chrollo, his gorgeous doll for the night, with blood trickling down his thighs from seven long cuts, would struggle to be matched by anything Feitan has ever done before. He can't conjure up a single mental image of anything that might come close, even though he's done similar things in the past. But none of those other bodies meant so much to him, none of them had a monopoly on Feitan's devotion like Chrollo does.

"You can't do this, can you?" Chrollo knowingly asks, a soft smile on his face. It's not a challenge-- it's an out.

"No," Feitan answers, untying the blindfold to remove it completely. "Not to you."

Considering his state of undress, it is, of course, impossible not to notice the effect this has on him. More than the masochism Feitan oddly failed to feed, Chrollo is instead touched by Feitan's inability to hurt him. Feitan keeps expecting him to skillfully slip out of his binds and pounce on him, considering that look in his eyes, but Chrollo remains bound to the chair Feitan placed him in.

"It doesn't seem like anyone can. Whatever happened to my orders being top priority..?" Chrollo sighs cheerfully, not bothering to hide his smile.

Ah. Feitan gets it now. Chrollo is much less of a masochist, and much more of a control freak. He gives the Troupe their freedom, of course, but the fact that they'll always come back to him no matter what, will always love and respect him, makes his heart swell. He adores his Spiders, and he loves testing them in the little ways he does. For better or worse, there doesn't ever seem to be any way to fail his tests.

"Another favor, Feitan? Could you call Shalnark for me? I don't have a free hand at the moment."

He can have a free hand whenever he wants. Even better, he has two extra free hands right in front of him now that Feitan has set the knife down. He stays close as he dials Shalnark, holding the phone to Chrollo's face as soon as he picks up.

* * *

The moment Shalnark sees Chrollo, he freezes in shock. It doesn't take long for him to recover with a warm smile.

"Wow, what a sight..." he coos in awe, moving to stand next to Feitan for a better view.

"Would you consent to having Black Voice used on you?" Chrollo asks, staring expectantly at Feitan.

Shalnark tries to keep a rein on the way he brightens at that, but it's not like he's ever been very good at hiding his glee. Between Chrollo's obvious desire and the way Shalnark is beaming at him, Feitan can't see himself refusing.

"Not in the neck. Somewhere I can see," Feitan says, holding his arm out to Shalnark.

"Well, it shouldn't go somewhere that's about to move around a bunch. The antenna is a little top-heavy."

Shalnark takes his time picking a spot, dragging the needle harmlessly down Feitan's arm.

"Will he be keeping his pants on, do you think?" he turns to ask Chrollo. "It'd be easier to keep it in with fabric helping to hold it in place."

"For as long as your ability is active, he should keep them on, yes."

"Okay!"

Feitan's pulse speeds up a little, since he's never had Black Voice used on him before, but it immediately slows back to normal the second the needle punctures his skin. He can't blink. His thoughts are quiet-- muffled and far away and so, so sparse as compared to normal. He knows he's sending signals to his limbs to move, and he knows they are being intercepted and ignored by the antenna before they can be received.

Then, his feet step forward of their own accord-- rather, according to Shalnark's orders.

"What would you like him to do?" he asks cheerily, one hand on his hip and the other controlling Feitan's entire body.

"Continue where he left off, of course."

"You got it!"

Feitan didn't think fear would register to him at the moment, but a pang of it thinks to hesitate his mechanical movements, even though it fails. Shalnark is tapping away at his phone with little room for pauses, issuing constant orders to Feitan. A slightly deeper cut across Chrollo's stomach appears-- Feitan has the sight of intestines spilling out quite memorized and the idea of seeing it here terrifies him, but Chrollo is just fine. He tries to look over at Shalnark but can't even move his eyes, instead having to focus on him in his periphery.

"How bad do you want it?" he asks, so fucking casual considering he's currently forcing his friend to injure the most important person in the world to both of them. There's something incredibly thrilling about this situation.

"He's still conscious, right?"

"I honestly don't know. It depends. I certainly check out when I use Autopilot, so he might not even be in there right now."

"Hm..."

Chrollo is too casual as well, all worked up to the point of dripping precome and bleeding from eight different cuts now, but sounding like he's deciding on a latte to order. It should assure Feitan that there's nothing to worry about. Really, it should. He knows Chrollo can handle so much more than this.

He mostly misses Shalnark making some kind of gesture, and Chrollo seems to take whatever it was as an idea.

"Left shoulder," he says.

"From the top or straight on?"

"Oh, straight on."

Then, so quickly and so easily, Feitan's knife is lodged into Chrollo's left shoulder, straight on. He actually manages to gasp despite being under Shalnark's control, and Chrollo doesn't fail to notice it.

"That's enough. Let him go," he says, and Shalnark is quick to retrieve the needle. Feitan falls to one knee, the one that wasn't used as the access point, and his vision vignettes out and back in as he regains control of his body. His thoughts get louder and faster and it doesn't even feel normal anymore for a while.

"Feitan," Chrollo addresses, and Feitan stands in response, staring pointedly into Chrollo's eyes and nowhere else.

"You did well," he praises, still nonchalant aside from a small smile. Feitan tries not to look, but his eyes quickly obsess over the wound in his shoulder. His mind, so fast now, lists off the potential damage; he may have scraped the bones, he may have driven it too deep, the knife may have gotten contaminated enough to infect the wound during the short time he had it set on the table. There will almost definitely be a scar.

He's worried about Chrollo, yes, but he's excited despite himself.

"You know, even I only have so much self control..." Shalnark comments, and Feitan can actually look at him now. His phone and antenna have both been pocketed, leaving his hands free. His arms are crossed, and he's gripping them a little too hard.

Feitan's eyes go back to Chrollo and, as if looking away for a moment refreshed the image, Feitan sees Chrollo for what he really is: stunning and needy. That's it. He's not the boss of anything right now, he's just gorgeous and in need of release. The wounds only add to the sight, and Feitan's fears are completely alleviated.

He leaps onto Chrollo's lap with enough force to knock the chair back, landing Chrollo on his bound arms. Those will bruise. The thought gets both of them harder.

"Hey, be careful! This is a toy you don't wanna break, remember?"

"I don't remember anything like that," Feitan lies, just because he knew it would make Chrollo's heart speed up. He feels it under his hand, thumping against Chrollo's chest. He trails the hand lower and hears his breathing get quicker in anticipation, but Chrollo knows what he's gotten himself into. Feitan smiles and retracts his hand and Chrollo leans his head back, brow furrowed as he sighs.

The stab wound in Chrollo's shoulder oozes blood that soaks into the wood of the chair and drips from there to the floor. Feitan touches the wound, drawing a light gasp out of Chrollo, and draws a circle on his stomach, above the cut. He lazily fills it in until the blood runs dry, then dips his finger back in for more. He adds a smaller circle on top, then draws six lines before he runs out of makeshift ink again. He adds the last six, a very crude twelve legged spider, and licks his bloodstained finger. It doesn't taste good, but the sight seems to turn Chrollo on.

"I mean it," Shalnark says, sounding serious for once. "Either dismiss me or let me play too."

Chrollo actually looks surprised, craning his head as best he can in his current position to look at Shalnark.

"Why wouldn't I let you?"

Just like that, Shalnark is kneeling beside the two of them, a hand on Feitan's back.

"And you?"

"What? Asking me for permission? The boss already gave it," Feitan tells him.

"Aw, you don't wanna indulge me? You're not gonna beg me to play with you even a little bit?"

"Me?"

Chrollo is the one who looks both insatiable and tremendously appetizing. Why would Shalnark's focus be on Feitan?

"Yeah, you. Well, both of you, but I can't help favoring you a little after you let me control you. That stuff's addicting, you know."

Feitan can't decide whether he liked being under Shalnark's control or not. Maybe if the situation were different, his preference would be more apparent. That just means they'll have to try it again sometime, he supposes.

"Untie me," Chrollo says, and immediately, four hands are on him to obey. He smiles at their response and pulls his arms out from beneath himself, stretching them for a moment. Then, he grabs onto Feitan and rolls them away from the chair-- twice, so that Feitan ends up on top again.

"Hey, I have an idea," Shalnark says. "Well, first of all, let's take this to a bed. But I have something after that."

Chrollo taps Feitan's hip and he rises off of him, watching Chrollo stand up, completely ignoring his dripping wounds. Feitan and Shalnark flank him on the way up from the basement and to the only thing still serving as a bedroom in this old building. A few drops of blood spatter onto the floor the whole way, and Feitan can already tell he'll gravitate back to this place months or even years from now just to stare at the long-dried blood and remember this night.

An even better sight, invariably, will be the sheets, especially with how Chrollo's shoulder is pressed right up against them as he lies back on the bed. Feitan moves to join him, but Shalnark stops him, moving in front of him with a smile. He leans down to whisper his plan into Feitan's ear and Chrollo sits up slightly out of curiosity.

"If he's a masochist, he'll be fine with it, won't he?" Shalnark adds at normal volume.

"Fine with what?"

"Oh, fucking you even after you come," Shalnark casually answers.

"Multiple rounds, then? Of course, since there are two of you, after all."

Shalnark mentioned a lot more than just two rounds, but Feitan doesn't say anything. He watches Shalnark empty his pockets on the rickety looking dresser across from the bed: both antennae, his phone, a spider coin, and a little bottle of rubbing alcohol. He pulls one more thing out that he keeps in his hand, which Feitan assumes is lubricant.

"Boss, just to make sure, are you really okay with being on the receiving end?"

"Of course. Do as you like," Chrollo easily encourages, passively watching Shalnark climb on top of him, taking Feitan's spot. Since Shalnark is the most dressed of the three of them, Feitan clicks his tongue and starts tugging at Shalnark's shirt to take it off.

Feitan didn't say yes or no to anything Shalnark said, but he assumes Shalnark knows he's willing to go with it. They'll be switching places soon, so Feitan busies himself by playing with the blood on Chrollo's shoulder. The bleeding has slowed as the blood clots, but there's still plenty of it to mess with. A hefty amount of it has dried all down his upper arm and his side, and a bit made it onto his neck somehow as well, probably from when Feitan had tackled him. Feitan collects some of the fresh blood with two fingers and draws a little heart on the back of Chrollo's hand, with another matching its position on his palm.

Feitan almost forgets what Shalnark is doing, but he's handily reminded when Chrollo arches slightly with a barely audible noise.

"What's that?" Feitan asks, half-taunting and half-disappointed. "We'll have to get him a lot louder than that."

Chrollo smiles at him and Shalnark laughs.

"Fei, you haven't touched him at all, have you? I'm a little busy here, so could you show our boss some attention?"

Feitan makes sure Chrollo is watching as he trails fingers caked in his blood down his abdomen to grasp at his cock. It jumps in his hand, neglected for far too long, and Feitan strokes him slowly, barely touching him at all. He instinctively arches up, body searching desperately for more stimulation, and the groan in his throat sounds more like a whine than much else.

"Careful, even that might be a little too much," Shalnark warns, removing his hand from where it had been pressing bruises into Chrollo's leg to instead rest it on Feitan's wrist.

"My waist, too," Chrollo murmurs. "I want bruises on my waist."

There's no term for how he sounds other than lovedrunk.

"Do you want the honors, Fei? Or are you leaving it to me?" Shalnark asks, as if he wouldn't mind passing up the opportunity. Those eyes bore their own answer into Feitan, but it's up to him to heed them. He could always pretend not to notice.

"I don't see why we can't both do it," is his answer, pleasing both Shalnark and Chrollo.

As Shalnark has made it clear how he wants Chrollo to finish first, he coaxes him onto his front and pulls his hips up the moment he deems him ready. The stretching seemed a bit quick, but it's not like Chrollo hasn't felt and enjoyed worse pain tonight. Fussing over him now would just get both of them on his case, so Feitan waits just long enough for Shalnark to get under Chrollo before situating himself between his legs.

Before either of them even touch him, Feitan hears a quiet moan out of Chrollo just from the position they have him in. Both his and Feitan's legs are straddling Shalnark's torso, who lies there with a deceptively impatient smile.

It's not Feitan pushing in that makes Chrollo jerk and gasp, it's the soft kiss Shalnark gives to the head of his cock before taking it in his mouth. His hips automatically try to seek more, but Feitan puts a quick stop to that using the same force Chrollo was so excited about earlier. He grips him hard, aiming to leave the bruises he promised him.

Despite his force, he's not-- well, Feitan is _definitely_ merciless, but Chrollo is, of course, an exception to every rule in the world. He focuses all his energy towards his punishing grip on Chrollo's hips to keep his pace slow and steady, matching the languid blowjob Shalnark is more than happy to give him. Feitan realizes that even this is an example of devotion.

Shalnark's hands join Feitan's, holding Chrollo's waist. His fingers are gentle for now, just a visual request for Feitan to let Shalnark guide Chrollo down. He lets him, watching Chrollo's cock sink further into Shalnark's mouth, hearing his breath instantly get heavier, his voice slipping past his throat of its own accord.

"Don't... don't pause for me," Chrollo requests more than commands, his voice slightly unsteady already. It's thanks to the fact that Feitan kept him so neglected this whole time, mostly.

Shalnark nods just slightly and gives a short hum, not bothering to pause his task just to give an obvious answer. Feitan has always been better at expressing through actions, and his increased pace serves well enough as a response. It doesn't take long at all before they get their first real moan out of Chrollo, along with a shudder as he tenses around Feitan. Beneath them, Shalnark sounds completely enamored, his hands sliding past Chrollo's waist to wrap around it in a hug and pull him as close as possible. Some come leaks out of the corner of his mouth even as he eagerly swallows it all, and Feitan isn't sure if he doesn't notice or just doesn't care. Maybe it's because it belongs to Chrollo, but Feitan is sorely tempted to swipe the stray streak up with a finger and taste it for himself.

Of course, he simply takes what he wants. The thumb at the corner of his mouth has Shalnark opening his eyes in curiosity and Feitan sees them narrow slightly in a smile when he licks the come off his thumb. Satisfied, Feitan returns his hand to Chrollo's hip and starts fucking him harder.

Feitan stops trying to look, but Shalnark has evidently let Chrollo slip out of his mouth for the moment, if his chatting and the sound of too many chaste kisses all over Chrollo's body are any indication. Dazed, Chrollo still instinctively tries to bury himself in Shalnark's mouth, stopped by the hands on his hips as well as Shalnark's change in position, as he slides up to take a nipple into his mouth instead. Even so, it seems like his body keeps searching, and Feitan can't help the short cackle that escapes him.

"He's so desperate..." Feitan laughs, inherently fond.

"Yeah, I didn't know our dear boss was a slut! Did you, Feitan?"

"Call--" Chrollo gasps, sounding like the wind was just knocked out of him. "Call me that again."

"Are you having trouble hearing? Want me to say it closer?" Shalnark teases, sliding further up to be at eye level with Chrollo, who nods like his life is at stake.

Feitan shares a look with Shalnark, whose smile widens as he closes in on Chrollo's ear. Feitan leans in beside the other.

"He called you a slut, boss."

"Such a pretty slut... I'd love to take you home with me."

"Can you blame him? With how you keep rutting at nothing like an animal?"

"I could keep you coming forever. I could turn you into my personal toy. You know I can."

That one affects Feitan, too. Shalnark has already used Black Voice on him tonight, so why not Chrollo as well? But he doesn't affirm anything, just squeezes around Feitan in a way that tells him he won't ever forget the offer. Feitan lets one hand follow the curve of Chrollo's hip to his groin to start pumping him and Feitan is both impressed and not surprised at all that he's already mostly hard again.

Feitan realizes he tuned out of more of Shalnark's chatter, but something he said got Chrollo to grab Shalnark's face and plunge into his mouth, earning a surprised noise followed by light, muffled laughter. He fucks him harder just to hear him moan into Shalnark's mouth, whose hands are quick to join Feitan's again.

"Boss, let me know if you run out of energy. I can fix that," Shalnark says, glancing to the dresser where his antennae and phone lie.

How did that not occur to Feitan, anyway? Shalnark can kill someone under his control instantly just by telling them to die, of course he can completely control other bodily functions that normally wouldn't work so fast. He hears a distracted grunt of acknowledgement, followed by a pained sigh when Feitan brings his hand back up to Chrollo's hip. The hole in his shoulder didn't break through to the back, so Feitan can't see it, but what he can see is blood smearing on the white sheets as Chrollo fidgets, almost like he craves friction even on the wound. Maybe it's that that suddenly hurls Feitan over the edge, stilling inside of his most important person in the world as he claims him in the most primal way possible. It feels better than it has any right to.

"My turn! Catch your breath, Feitan," Shalnark cheerily announces, not sounding affected at all. It makes Feitan want to focus his attention on Shalnark, tease him for hours on end instead of Chrollo. He'll have to get him alone some other time.

Feitan had only lowered the waistband of his pants, so he takes them the rest of the way off as he moves to sit beside the two of them. He watches, still hazy with afterglow, as Shalnark lurches up to pin Chrollo on the opposite end of the bed. Chrollo's hand buries itself in Shalnark's hair, encouraging the way he dives to assault his throat. Before he forgets, Feitan slips out of bed to retrieve an antenna and Shalnark's phone, pausing as he realizes he doesn't know which one he was stuck with. Just in case, he gives it a quick disinfecting with the rubbing alcohol before moving back to where he'd been sitting and placing the items nearby.

He takes a good look at the sight before him, realizing that Shalnark must have grabbed Chrollo's thighs at some point, as his hands are flecked with blood-- his right moreso as he'd pinned Chrollo by the shoulders. Feitan wants to see those thighs again.

He gets closer, gently pulling Chrollo's leg from where it clings lightly to Shalnark's side. He allows the action without hesitation, letting Feitan move him as he likes. It's a small gesture, even one that should be expected, but the concept turns Feitan on anyway. This side is the one with three cuts, all smeared and dried and ruining Chrollo's perfect skin. Feitan lays a reverent kiss where the dried blood is densest.

He's caught off guard when a hand pulls his head back by his hair and a mouth is suddenly on his. Feitan bites Shalnark's lip as he pulls away, a scolding for paying more attention to him than Chrollo. Shalnark winces but steals another quick kiss anyway with a carefree smile. In an attempt to wipe the look off his face, Feitan harshly tugs Shalnark's hair, getting him back for just a second ago. Rather than wince this time, he just laughs as his head is pulled back. It takes a lot of effort to stop staring at his bared throat.

Even if he wanted to give in and bite him, that spot is quickly taken as Chrollo, impatient due to being ignored for a minute, shoots up to grab Shalnark's attention. Shalnark makes a surprised sound and his smile seems to melt into something a little warmer. It falters when Chrollo trails a hand down to grab him through the pants he shouldn't even be wearing. Feitan slips his thumbs under the waistband on either side, meeting Chrollo's hand in the process as they both move to undress him. He has to check Shalnark's pockets for the lube, throwing his pants off the side of the bed once he has it.

Shalnark fails to swallow a gasp when Feitan presses up against his back and grabs his cock with a slick hand.

"I could just watch the two of you," Chrollo muses, fascinated by the sight. Feitan wouldn't mind, but that would go against the premise of this night. Chrollo said Feitan has free reign to his body tonight, after all. He's not about to waste stamina on anyone besides Chrollo.

"Some other night," Feitan says, and Shalnark nods in agreement.

Shalnark hums with satisfaction as he slides inside of Chrollo, who lays back down and beckons Shalnark to follow him. He obeys, of course, and they share another kiss. Shalnark isn't as patient as Feitan, his pace quickening and the old bed beneath them groaning in protest already. Chrollo seems to appreciate it, tipping his head back for Shalnark, who noses his way down to Chrollo's neck to bite him. He can see Shalnark's grip on Chrollo's waist tightening.

Since Shalnark is decidedly busy and Chrollo doesn't seem interested in doing it himself, Feitan starts lazily pumping him, purposely out of sync with Shalnark. Chrollo starts fidgeting again, trying to find any way to get more friction, and Shalnark moans at the either the display or the way he has Chrollo squirming on his cock. Feitan takes mercy and speeds up, prompting Shalnark to do the same, consciously or not.

Feitan doesn't know if he did it the first time as well, but Chrollo's eyes roll back when he comes, breathless and holding the sheets in a death grip. He wishes he had a photographic memory like Machi. She's mentioned a few times something about being able to take "mental pictures" and Feitan has never been more envious. Shalnark's phone is right there, but alas, photos would effectively extend the events of this night beyond their timeframe. Those aren't the terms Chrollo gave him.

Shalnark clenches his jaw and struggles to slow to a halt.

"I don't know how many rounds I can go for, so I'll just wait it out," he pants. That probably would have been a good idea for him, too. Feitan is no stranger to such methods, after all.

He pulls out and closes his eyes, trying to calm himself down. Then, he looks to the side where Feitan left his phone.

"Boss, want some help for the next round?"

Chrollo takes a moment. He blinks slowly and then follows Shalnark's line of sight to the phone.

"It would be appreciated," he says.

Shalnark shuffles aside both to grab his things as well as to give Chrollo room to breathe. Feitan takes Shalnark's place and rests his cheek against Chrollo's knee. He looks so amazing. Since he's not as aroused at the moment, the sight of the hole in Chrollo's shoulder bugs him, but he forces himself to ignore it for now. It'll just be a pretty sight to him again in a little while, and soon enough they'll be done and he can wrap it up for him.

It's interesting to watch Shalnark take control of Chrollo. The antenna slips in, his eyes go blank, Shalnark taps a short command into his phone, and then the antenna is already being removed. Feitan grabs him to check and, sure enough, Chrollo is completely hard again. That must feel odd.

Feitan straightens up, removing his weight from Chrollo's knee. He considers turning him back over, but as pretty as his back is, it's his front that's all ruined with blood and come. The choice is obvious.

He leans down over him and nips an earlobe as he rubs against him, slow and careful with his own oversensitivity. He imagines Chrollo must feel it too, despite Black Voice forcing his body back into working order. It just seems too early not to.

"Don't tell me you need help too, Feitan," Shalnark teases. "You know, you could have said something earlier."

"Fuck off," he mutters. Shalnark just laughs.

"I'm helping anyway."

Feitan, confused, expects to feel a needle in his skin when Shalnark moves behind him, but he instead feels a pair of arms wrap around him and breath start ghosting against his ear.

"Thank you for sharing your toy with me," he whispers, for Feitan's ears only. "He's so pretty."

He keeps up the hug for a few seconds that are warm in every sense of the word. Then, one of his hands moves to Feitan's hip.

"Do you have any more? I like playing with you."

Feitan thinks back on the other people he's done this with, almost regrets not keeping them around. Shalnark's other hand drags itself along Feitan's body.

"Play with him a little longer, okay?" He punctuates the request with a kiss to Feitan's cheek as he wraps his fingers around his cock and guides the head inside of Chrollo. His hand lazily trails back up to rest on Feitan's other hip-- not assisting his movements anymore, just touching him.

Feitan inches forward and hears Chrollo hold his breath. A little smile finds its way onto his face as he decides that's deep enough. The way he fucks him now is slow and shallow, only sinking halfway in at most on each thrust. Chrollo actually makes a frustrated noise, as curt and quiet as it is.

"Put it all the way in," he huffs, affronted and confused. Feitan ignores the command despite his disobedience feeling inherently wrong.

"Feitan..." Chrollo's tone sounds warning.

"You said I have free reign," Feitan reminds him, not letting up in the slightest.

"... I'm asking you."

Only "asking"?

"Have you tried begging? Feitan can't be _that_ mean to deny you even then, right?" Shalnark offers helpfully, voicing Feitan's thoughts.

Surprisingly, Chrollo, who can normally say or do or handle anything without batting an eye, seems to hesitate. Until he gives in, Feitan keeps half-fucking him, too shallow to satisfy either of them.

"He's so hard, too. Black Voice really did its job," Shalnark casually comments. "You're killing him here, Feitan."

Feitan feels Chrollo's legs hook behind his own and they both fight to have their way-- Feitan holding Chrollo in place and Chrollo trying to pull at least one of them closer to the other. His legs are quite strong, and Feitan feels himself losing ground. Oh well, no harm in letting him have what he wants. He lunges forward, taking Chrollo by surprise as he finally buries himself inside of him. That might be the most wanton moan they've gotten out of him so far.

In response, he feels the fingers on his hips twitch, curling in with a low moan in his ear. If Shalnark gets too into what he's seeing, he might just get off without needing to be touched. It's the mental image of Shalnark losing control, clinging to Feitan and rutting against him as he comes onto his back, that coaxes him to full hardness. It feels like that fantasy isn't far from being fulfilled, but Shalnark is keeping it under control for the moment. Feitan spares a quick glance over his shoulder and sees a look in Shalnark's eyes that he's never seen on him before. He can't tell if that means he's closer or further from losing his mind.

Though Shalnark made it clear earlier that he might end up paying too much attention to Feitan, he still finds himself taken off guard when Shalnark seems to focus all his efforts just on him now. He's so close, so fond, and he keeps murmuring in Feitan's ear, just for him.

"I wanna play with you so bad..." is among his sweet nothings, and Feitan physically shrugs him off. Shalnark doesn't move away.

"Quit it. Play with the boss," he says, acting unfazed.

"I will. You're kind of in the way."

"You still need to move."

"Nope. You can move when you're done."

Chrollo looks between the two of them.

"Don't argue," he says, unsure if that's even what they're doing.

"We're not!" Shalnark insists, smiling over Feitan's shoulder.

As much as it pains him to admit it, Shalnark being pressed up against him like this actually helps. They should both be focusing on Chrollo, not discovering "feelings" for each other. Feitan tries to ignore Shalnark up until he feels a kiss on his shoulder. Shalnark gives him a trail of them leading up his neck to his jaw and then behind his ear and back down. He can't help but let a little noise slip and he half-notices that the bed is creaking louder. Chrollo looks absolutely fascinated.

"Keep doing that," he whispers, bringing his legs tighter against Feitan's sides. He feels a smile against his skin-- his only warning before Shalnark bites down on the side of his neck. He can't see the pain as anything but pleasant, unable to even pretend to be annoyed at this point. He fucks Chrollo harder, leaning over him as he feels himself getting close again. He closes his eyes for only half a second longer than a blink, but Chrollo has pulled him into a kiss by the time he opens them. Solely because it's Chrollo, it's the best thing Feitan has ever felt.

The way he kisses back is frenzied, immediately getting lost in Chrollo. He feels Shalnark sliding a hand up his spine and pays him no mind, both hands busy holding Chrollo's face now. He's not in any state to hold back his noises anymore, and Chrollo greedily swallows his voice. He can have it, Feitan numbly thinks. He can have anything he wants.

"Boss, do you want it inside again? Or do you want him to come on you?" Shalnark asks, and Feitan has no fucking clue how his voice is so even.

"Oh..." Chrollo pants, having to try a few times to answer. "Pull out, Feitan."

He thinks for a split second that doing so might be difficult, but of course, obeying Chrollo has always been easy. Shalnark's hand is on his cock the moment it slips out of Chrollo and he comes for the second time that night mere seconds later. Shalnark keeps pumping him, demanding every last drop out of him, his touch oddly possessive. He gives Feitan one more prolonged kiss on the cheek before releasing him entirely. Feitan takes a second to register that he can move, his body only managing a slight twitch before Chrollo has pulled him back down into another kiss. He should let Feitan get off of him so Shalnark can continue where he left off, but he's too desperate for more to think clearly.

Feitan certainly isn't about to pull away, so it's Shalnark wrapping his arms around him again and actually pulling him up off of Chrollo that moves things along. Chrollo's hand that had been on the back of Feitan's head attempts to follow him before it gives up and rests on the bed. There's a fond smile on Chrollo's face.

Since both of them are close, Shalnark has his hand on Chrollo's cock from the start this time, pumping it in time with his pace, which doesn't take long at all to get harsh. Seeking a bit of revenge, Feitan leans in to give the shell of Shalnark's ear a nip, and even just that gets a reaction out of him. He only stops because Chrollo pulls Shalnark down, craving the closeness. Shalnark is more than happy to oblige him.

This time, both Feitan and Shalnark are treated to an incredible scene. Chrollo-- stoic, monotonous Chrollo-- actually keens and swears, a desperate look on his face as he clings to Shalnark with so much urgency. Shalnark is caught off guard, whispering "oh my god, oh my god" in a breathless mantra. Feitan is pretty sure they come at the same time.

They stay like that for a while; Shalnark with his forehead resting against Chrollo's uninjured shoulder and Chrollo still wrapped around him, limbs very slowly relaxing until they finally fall to the bed. Shalnark is very careful when he pulls out.

"I think that's good," he pants with a smile. "No more, right?"

Chrollo nods, just as out of breath. The moment he does, Feitan hops out of bed to soak a washcloth and finally take care of Chrollo's shoulder. He doesn't so much as flinch when Feitan returns and starts gingerly cleaning the wound.

"This is a pretty big mess. Wanna just hop in the shower, boss?"

Feitan almost argues just because he wants to be the one to do this for Chrollo, but he holds his tongue.

"Are you kidding? I'm not moving," he says, earning a laugh out of Shalnark. He does sound exhausted. He hasn't actually lost all that much blood, relatively speaking, but the amount he did lose probably isn't helping either.

"I guess I'll give you a hand, then," Shalnark says, much more languid about getting out of bed. He pauses to stretch once he's standing and Feitan has to pull his gaze away from the way the muscles flex under the skin of his back. They need to have a talk at some point, don't they?

Chrollo's eyes follow Shalnark out of the room, gliding back to Feitan as soon as he's out of sight. The smile he gives him, so warm and appreciative, freezes Feitan's movements and steals his breath away. The insistent feeling that he needs to wrap that shoulder as soon as possible is the only thing that snaps him out of it.

As soon as Feitan is wondering if there are proper bandages here, Shalnark is sitting next to him, setting a first-aid kit in an open space on the bed.

"Remember the last time we did this?" Shalnark asks, and Feitan really has to dig to find out if he does. It takes him a moment, but he remembers a somewhat similar situation from about two years ago. Chrollo had gone through hell and back just to steal an ability and came up to Feitan all drenched in blood but still smiling to ask him for help in dressing his injuries. Shalnark, probably the most prone to worrying in the whole Troupe, insisted on helping.

"More clothes last time," Feitan comments. Shalnark laughs.

"Well, I had this nagging feeling that it wouldn't be the last time. I'm glad this was how it happened again."

"Crybaby Shalnark worries too much."

"Hey!"

"You used to faint at the sight of blood."

"I--" Shalnark stammers, embarrassed at the memory of how he used to be. "I was younger, okay?! You were a kid once too!"

"18 is too old."

"There's no way I was still like that at 18! Now you're just exaggerating."

Chrollo sighs and closes his eyes, too tired to think about intervening. Feitan relents for his sake rather than for Shalnark, who pouts beside him.

"Both of you did well," Chrollo softly comments after a long silence.

"Anytime," Shalnark says. Feitan stays quiet, anticipating Chrollo saying something else. With his shoulder now wrapped and his cuts (and the rest of him) cleaned, Chrollo instead just keeps his eyes shut and relaxes, making to sleep.

Feitan can feel Shalnark looking at him, but he doesn't look away from Chrollo yet. The weight of his eyes only lifts when he moves to get the first-aid kit off the bed. He then stretches again and lies down beside Chrollo, beckoning Feitan to lay with them too. He's leaning more towards putting his clothes back on and leaving until Chrollo opens his eyes to stare expectantly at him.

Of course he yields.


End file.
